


Fight or Flight (or, sometimes, Fall)

by yonnna



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Canon - Anime, References to kidnapping, if you squint this is a ship, kind of, non is just non, rio is anime canon, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 22:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yonnna/pseuds/yonnna
Summary: After leaving Non to wait for Chikage, Rio wonders whether she should have done more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love me some... anime Rio backstory... Rio as a three-dimensional character.

In the chaos of the day’s events, she had forgotten they had a family dinner planned.

Kiyosuke had accompanied her home, filling the walk with long silences and short, strange bursts of conversation. When she opened the door Rio said, "S _tay for dinner, if you want"_ , but the warm, comforting scent of broth wafted out from the kitchen, and the other girl shuffled her feet, and, with stiffened, awkward speech, politely declined. When her senses caught up, she understood why — it would be rude to intrude on a family dinner, after all — but she had forgotten.

There was a hot pot in the works in the kitchen. Her mother smiled when she saw her. Her father looked over from the stove-top and gave a wave with his ladle-less hand. Did they not notice she was late, or did they not care? They were so blind sometimes. They were so _good_ at acting blind sometimes. She reminded herself of the mechanics of smiling — pull at the muscles until they ache, and she pulled, and she pulled her lips up at the corners — and she heard, " _Someone looks happy today!_ " _"How did the date with your friends go?"_

Dulled, as though these words were spoken from another room. As though _she_ was _in_ another room. She took in a lungful of air, homely and savoury, and swallowed it before she could choke.

"It was fine," she said at length. _They held a knife to Kana's throat, and Non_ — "We went around shopping, and Non..." _She's still_ there _. Non's still there and we left her. She told us to leave her and we left her, but they were still fighting and_ — "You know, she hasn't changed since middle school. She got _so_ bored of wandering around. In the end, we just went to a café and talked for a while." _Smile. Force out a laugh._ "That one by the station, you know? It sells those nice cakes."

"I hope you didn't fill yourself up too much," her father teased. Her mother dropped a plate of chopped carrots into the broth and he stirred. Rio shook her head.

"All I had was a coffee," fortunately. All she had was a coffee, _fortunately_. She was not sure she would have been able to keep anything else down. She was not sure she _would_ be able to keep anything else down now. Her mind raced, nauseatingly, with painful possibilities; the kidnappers return and Chikage is too injured to protect Non, they hold her hostage and force her to watch as they lure out his friends one by one. Non hurt. Non scared. Non _alone_. She shouldn't have run. Non told them to run, but she shouldn't have run. She should have stayed.

She should go back.

"Dinner smells great."

 _She should go back_ — but her legs did not move. When she looked down she could only think of ropes pulled tight around her own ankles; she felt them dig into her skin, and she could not move. Her parents must have seen the turmoil in her; it was so overwhelming, it must have spilled through somewhere — in her eyes, in the tremor of her shoulders, in her down-turned chin — somewhere. _Everywhere_.

But they were so good at being _blind_. They were _all_ so good at being blind, and deaf, and, _god_ — Non was her friend, and here she was pretending she wasn't in trouble. Smiling, talking like nothing was wrong. Here she was avoiding the situation. _Lying_. Lying to herself. Just like her parents did. Just like people always did when the world gave them something they couldn't face head on.

"Do you mind setting the table?"

"Sorry, what?" She looked up, blinking slowly.

"The table?" her mother repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh... Sure," she said at length, giving a small nod.

How she made it over to the cabinet, she couldn't say. She couldn't force her feet to move, yet they moved without her, carried her across the kitchen and stopped just where they were supposed to. The dishes felt heavier than usual, or her hands felt weaker, holding them; three bowls stacked in front of her, but their fragility made them the weight of the world.

As she walked, she watched her fingers instead of her feet — how they trembled to guard porcelain. Something in her told her that if she turned her eyes away it would shatter against the ground. The break always happened when she wasn't looking. There was a certain kind of unquestioning trust which could never be repaired, which her parents used to share and which, however happy they were, they didn't anymore. There was a hope she had for life, for love. There was a friend she did not want to abandon. She knew that something would break the second she blinked.

Though, she had not broken a plate in years.

"Rio — are you alright?"

She heard her mother's rushed footsteps before she looked down to see the shards. The bottommost bowl must have slipped from her grip, but the alarm bells in her head were still too loud for her to have noticed the the _crack_.

"Are you feeling faint?" She knelt to pick up the pieces — it had been a clean break, three distinct shivers of painted ceramics. When Rio ducked to help her she caught her hand and told her, gently, "Go sit down. I'll clean this up."

Her lips parted to speak, and no words came out; betrayed by her own silence, she drifted towards the table, consciousness light as air, soul and soles heavy as bricks. She wasn't careful. She wasn't paying enough attention, and now it was broken and — _Non_ was alone, and it was broken. Everything kept breaking. She drew in short breaths. _The world isn't as cruel as you think_ — but it was, it was and it always would be. She sat, shoulders slumped and head hung limp, and in her mind she was standing in front of the Black Rider, but their darkness was just darkness, and the hope they radiated did not penetrate her heart. _Where was the world's kindness when those men came for us today?_ Non wasn't like her. She was a normal girl. She was _happy_. It wasn't right. _It wasn't right_ , she imagined telling the Black Rider, and the shadow turned to her and repeated that old mantra, _"The world isn't as cruel as you think"_ — _no, that's just you._ Rio's hands furled into fists at her sides. _The rest of the world_ is _cruel. That's just you. Even I_ —

_Leaving her alone, that's cruel, isn't it? I'm cruel._

She wasn't the Black Rider; she didn't have the strength to catch people who insisted on falling. She had tried to talk Non out of staying behind, she had _tried_ , and Non had insisted on waiting for Chikage. She knew she was balancing on the edge and — it wasn't _fair_ , because the last time Rio had slipped someone had been there to catch her, but _nothing_ would be there to stop Non from colliding with the concrete. No one would be there to tell her that things weren't as terrible as they seemed. Rio wanted to say it was only concern that twisted her stomach, but it tasted bitter at the back of her throat.

She could not have convinced Non to leave. She could have convinced _herself_ to _stay_. She could tell herself now that she lacked the strength, but it would not have taken any supernatural entity to wait out the storm with her; all she lacked was the nerve. She had run, that was the thing. Non had chosen to stay, and she had chosen to _run_.

Maybe that part of her was never going to change; it was martyrdom now instead of nothingness, yet she always stalled before she could take the leap that her wanting demanded.

The world was terrible, and she was a part of that terribleness.

She wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her jacket close.

 _Bzzt_.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She fumbled to retrieve it, hazy eyes scanning over the words on the screen.

[ _Are you home now?_ ]

She read them. She read them again. She looked at the sender's name. She looked at it again.

She hit _call_.

« Hey! I'm with Rocchi right now so sorry if he - »

"Non." She let out a breath at the sound of her voice, nonchalant as ever and anything but _pained_. "What happened? Are you okay? Is Chikage okay?"

« Slow down! I can't answer all those questions at once, Rio. »

There was laughter on the other end of the line, and that was enough, for now. She was laughing. She had to be okay.

« There was this biker lady and this strong guy, and — oh! By the way, we just ran into this kid in a Raira uniform. I think it was the same one we saw just before... y'know... Anyway, do you know him? »

Rio furrowed her brow.

"Ryuugamine? He's in my class, but... nevermind that. Did you —"

"You spent all day with your friends, Rio," came her mother's voice. She looked up to see her frowning. "Can you put the phone away for dinner?"

"I..." Rio swallowed the lump in her throat, then nodded. "I have to go now, Non, but can you..." A beat. She felt her chest constrict. "Can you come over later? I need to talk to you."

« Huh? Okay, sure! As long as I can stay the night. I hate taking trains that late. »

"That's fine." In front of her, her mother's eyebrows raised in question. "See you soon."

She hung up, and stuffed the phone into her pocket with a hand which was steadier now than it had been moments before. The thud of her heartbeat in her head became less a drumbeat and more a metronome, lower, steadier. She exhaled and straightened her spine. After a long moment, she raised her head to speak.

"Sorry about that. Non wants to come over tonight," — her eyes pleaded — "If that's okay."

Her father set a large pot down on the tabletop with mitted hands, and gave a half shrug, exchanging a brief glance with her mother.

"I don't see why not."

"As long as you're feeling up to it," she added, setting an unbroken bowl in front of her. Rio shifted in her seat, mouth drawn into a straight line.

"I'm fine," she assured, giving a nod. "I'm, um, great."

Before they could ask another question, she shot up and leaned across the table to serve herself, making a show of smiling as she scooped a portion of stew into her bowl.

"I missed lunch today, so I'm probably just hungry," she laughed. She lied.

* * *

"He said he doesn't want to go to the hospital, but he's in pretty bad shape — _oh well_."

Non had shown up at her door thirty minutes ago without a scratch or a speck of dirt on her, already shooting off the full story at lightning speed — Rio only caught fragments, something about a biker with a knife, and a guy in a bartender uniform ( _"_ _Shizuo Heiwajima?" "How would I know? You're the one who lives here."_ ), and even when she got to _Anri Sonohara wielding a Katana_ , her deadpan expression only shifted by the quirk of an eyebrow. This was the way Ikebukuro worked; strange and terrible and incredible, and because it was _always_ so awe-inspiring, it never inspired awe in her.

The other girl was now sprawled out across her bed like a housecat, twirling her hair between two fingers and musing aloud, "That's just Rocchi, isn't it? He could break his neck and he'd still be walking around like everything's fine. What a dummy."

A soft giggle escaped her lips, and Rio sat back on the heels of her hands and sighed. _You're not any different_ , she wanted to say, _you got_ kidnapped _today and you're laughing it off. That's no better than getting beaten up and walking around like everything's fine._ She stopped herself before she opened her mouth. That sounded _angry_. Was she angry? She did not want to be angry. She wanted to be a good friend.

"Right," she said instead, narrow shoulders dropping. "At least _you_ didn't get hurt."

Sheets rustled. Rio looked up to find Non perched on the edge of the bed, lips pursed. " _Obviously_ I didn't get hurt," — her tone assured that this _was_ obvious. She tilted her head, hair spilling over her shoulder. There was something a bit too serious in her expression when she asked: "Do you really think the world is that bad a place, Rio?"

Her throat tightened, and Non smiled, and her throat tightened a little more. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that she would be able to cut straight to the heart of it; Non had known her _before_ her life changed, and she might have been closer to that version of herself now than she had been a year ago, but she still _wasn't_ that version of herself. It shouldn't come as a surprise, and it didn't; it came in the form of discomfort, averted eyes and lowered chin.

"I don't _want_ to think it's that bad," but her hands clenched against the floorboards and the edge of her voice _was_ anger — and if it was not meant for Non, it must have been meant for the world.

"Then don't," came her calm suggestion, a smile lighting her features again. "I mean, what's so bad about today? I'm not hurt, and you're not hurt — I texted the others earlier, and they're all fine too! — and Rocchi, well, Rocchi's always hurt, so there's no point worrying about that," — she let out a huff of breath here — "We were having fun earlier, and your parents were nice to let me stay over, and your kitchen smelled _really_ good — actually, I was gonna ask, do you have any leftovers?"

"In the fridge. Bottom shelf," she answered shortly. She thought she was grateful for the derailment, but when Non hopped off the bed and made for the door, she found herself grabbing her hand to stop her.

"What if you're not okay next time?" she half-murmured, voice strained and weak. "You can't always rely on Chikage to protect you. _No one_ is that dependable, no matter what you —"

"That's not how it is, Rio." She shook her head. "You know, Rocchi tries to protect me, but I stayed behind so that I could protect _him_ — and the rest of you protected each other by getting away, but if you'd stayed, me and Rocchi would have protected you, too. That's the way it goes. We all look out for each other, and that way if one of us _does_ mess up there's always someone else to fall back on."

Rather than pulling her arm away, Non plopped down beside her and squeezed her hand with hers.

"So I'll always be okay. _We'll_ always be okay," she told her. "We just have to keep helping each other."

Rio fell silent. Non's eyes were bright and earnest, and she felt a sharp pang in her chest, knowing how cold her own were by comparison.

"I..." She swallowed, tugging at the hem of her shirt with her free hand. "I didn't help anyone, Non. I just ran. I —..."

She plucked at stray threads, hating her stinging eyes, hating her faltering voice, hating the tremor of her fingertips — "I was scared," — _what right did she have to be scared?_ She had spent months wishing for catastrophe, begging the universe for a tragedy that could erase her, and time and time again the universe answered her call, and each time she _trembled_. "I was scared, so I left the second I could. I wasn't thinking about anyone else."

Everything was very still, and she could not lift her head to meet Non's gaze because she could not predict the nature of it.

"Kiyomin said you kept her company," she responded after a pause. "She might not show it, but I bet she was scared, too. You helped her."

A sudden weight dropped on her shoulder; she smelled strawberry shampoo and felt a flutter of soft hair against her neck. Non tilted her head so that when Rio glanced down she could see a smile.

"And you can't say you weren't thinking about anyone else if you were sitting here worrying about me," she chimed.

"Doesn't Chikage worry about you enough? You don't need _me_ for that," Rio protested, but she couldn't deny that breathing was easier following this assurance.

"Weren't you _listening_?" she made to chide her, all in jest, nudging her with her arm and bringing herself closer in the process. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere saying that you're only allowed to care about one person, or that only one person is allowed to care about you. It's not about whether I _need_ you to worry about me, you just do — just like Rocchi worries about me, and Kanacchi, and Kiyomin. I worry about _them_ , too, and, you know, I worry about _you_ ," Her tone became something quieter, slower, "I worried about you a lot when we stopped talking last year. You wouldn't answer any of my calls so after a while I gave up, but I didn't stop worrying."

She must have noticed Rio stiffen because she did not dwell on this point for long.

"And forget about being scared. It was an all-out gang war." She lifted her head, thin brow furrowed. "If I didn't know that you and Rocchi and the others were there, I would've been a lot more scared than I was. Now that you know we're there for you too, you'll be braver next time, so don't beat yourself up about it."

Before Rio could open her mouth to respond, Non got to her feet, tugging her up with her. " _Come on_ , you owe me leftovers."

She smiled and pulled Rio along; she followed, and her heavy feet felt lighter.


End file.
